


Calendar Boys

by anne_ammons, Nadiapolyakova (Rijaya83)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:41:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26415829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anne_ammons/pseuds/anne_ammons, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rijaya83/pseuds/Nadiapolyakova
Summary: She had thrown out the idea on a lark, but now Hermione Granger was tasked with bringing the charity calendar to life. What was one more thing on her list?An art/writing collaboration between nadiapolyakova and anne_ammons - twelve photos and a piece of the story behind them.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 68
Kudos: 275





	1. Mr. January - Harry Potter

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Мальчики для календаря](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26516524) by [StilleWasser](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StilleWasser/pseuds/StilleWasser)



> When I first saw Nadia's picture of Draco in his Quidditch kit, I was blown away and inspired to sit down and write Mr. September. Nadia and I were thrilled by the response as well as the comments about doing it again, so we decided to bring the rest of the calendar to life. You may have seen the art for September, but you don't know the whole story.

“Well, we could do a charity calendar.”

The blank looks staring back at her should have been her first clue to drop the idea.

“You know, the kind where there are half-dressed firefighters holding puppies and things?”

“Uh, Hermione, what exactly is a firefighter and how might it help us raise money for the children’s ward?”

Hermione rubbed her face in her hands for a moment before looking up. It was one of those rare moments when she realized she had too much going on. Between healer training, helping Headmistress McGonagall update the Muggle Studies curriculum, helping her mother with the Garden Auxiliary and dabbling in an extra-curricular runes project, her plate was overflowing — and those were just the big things. Added to that were a list of regular appearances and events at Kingsley’s request, the half-written manuscript gathering dust on her desk, and friends who she did her best to make time for on a semi-regular basis.

Now it seemed like her worlds were colliding, crashing into each other, given she had mentioned something so decidedly muggle in the middle of a meeting at St. Mungo’s. Clearly, she was losing her mind.

“I’m sorry. Forget I said anything.”

She heard her colleague, Mandy Brocklehurst, chuckle on her right. “Oh no, you piqued my interest at half-dressed. The least you can do is explain.”

They had been throwing out ideas for a fundraiser to raise money to refurbish the children’s ward when the errant thought had slipped out of her mouth.

Oh well, in for a penny, in for a pound, she thought.

“A firefighter is a muggle who puts out fires.” She began to explain.

“And they do this half-naked?”

Hermione felt her cheeks heat.

One of her half-blooded colleagues spoke up, someone who could help explain, and Hermione was thankful that the attention was off of her for a moment.

“No, they have uniforms, but it’s rather strenuous work. One has to be rather fit to be a firefighter, you see.”

“So what does this have to do with a calendar?”

Hermione jumped back in. “Well, it’s quite popular to take photos of the firefighters in _part_ of their uniform and assemble the pictures together to make a calendar. Twelve pictures - twelve firefighters.”

“Oh…” Several around the table began to get the idea.

“And people buy this?”

“My gran always has one on her fridge. It may be the highlight of her year — browsing through the new calendar.”

“And you think it would sell well?”

“I think there are enough witches in Britain that might be interested.”

 _Or wizards_ , Hermione thought, no sense in excluding anyone.

“Estimate? How much do you think it could bring in?” Lead Healer Aubrey had leaned forward so her hands were steepled on the table in front of her. She definitely seemed interested in the idea.

Hermione quickly did some maths. The target audience for Witch Weekly was probably the same audience as the calendar, give or take. Overall the Wizarding world was more conservative than the Muggle one, but if it were done tastefully — she saw no reason people wouldn’t be interested.

“I don’t know. If we sell it for 5 Galleons a piece, and we sell 500 copies, that would bring in 2500 Galleons, minus the printing costs.

“This sounds like a lot less work than putting together yet another charity ball that no one wants to attend. Plus, it’s new and fresh. I like it.” Lead Healer Aubrey sat back looking pleased.

“Alright, Granger, this is your project. Make it happen. But let’s charge 10 Galleons each. After all, it’s for charity.”

She hadn’t volunteered for anything, she had just been throwing out an idea.

“But-“

The older woman was already trailing from the room onto the next thing.

Hermione sat, stunned. Her to-do list had just gotten even longer.

Mandy leaned over. “You know, if you want some help kicking ideas around, I’ve got a couple, but I couldn't take it on, I'm entirely too busy.”

o0o

That night, she sat at home with a glass of wine and a notebook, a nod to her muggle sensibilities. It was so much easier to jot down notes with a ballpoint on paper than to deal with ink and parchment; at least without covering her fingers, her clothes and her sofa with ink.

She let her mind wander, wondering how she was going to make this happen. First, they needed a compelling theme; something that would make people be interested in the calendar.

What was the wizarding equivalent of firefighting? Aurors were too serious and not interesting enough. Curse breakers had a certain devil-may-care attitude, but could she find twelve of them to participate? Dragon-tamers — now there was a thought. They tended to be in rather good shape, she knew from having seen Charlie Weasley fresh out of the shower one too many times, but the scars and burns that were an occupational hazard might be off-putting to some.

She thought of the different calendars that she had seen: there were calendars of magical beasts and more traditional ones of landscapes. Professional Quidditch teams already produced their own calendars full of individual and team photos for their adoring fans.

Quidditch — that might be a hook. People were Quidditch-crazy, that was for sure. The players were generally fit. And while professional players might not be able to participate, that wasn’t the entire universe of people who played. An idea started forming in her mind.

o0o

Friday night was for gathering at the Leaky, if she wasn’t on call. It was a standing date amongst her girlfriends. Ditch the responsibilities and the partners to have a chance to let their hair down. Not everyone came every week, but enough did that it was always an enjoyable evening.

Granted, enough of the boys hung out at the Leaky, too, that it often became a rather large group, but tonight, they had work to do.

Those who she had mentioned the project to seemed interested. The important thing was trying to find the right subjects for the photos, and to do that, she needed the input of others.

“You can’t pick them all, Hermione — we know who you like to date. Can’t have a calendar full of Seekers, you realize.” Angelina Johnson joked and everyone around the table laughed.

Hermione looked around anxiously; that had been said a little more loudly than she would have liked.

“Yeah, some of us like ‘em with a little more meat on their bones.” Susan Bones chimed in.

She blushed, wondering if she was that obvious with her preferences. It wasn’t that she just liked Seekers — while she and Viktor had dated, she was only friends with Harry, and that fling with Oliver, well, he was a Keeper, wasn’t he? Not that anyone knew about that…

She pulled out her notebook, as the women gathered around, drinks in hand.

“So, we need twelve photos. All men who played while at school and hopefully haven’t let themselves go. We’re trying to raise money here, so we want to give our buyers something to see.”

There were nods of assent around the table.

“Let’s start by gathering a list of names and then I’ll work on narrowing it down.”

She wrote down the first name as she said it. Harry was a given. His involvement alone would raise interest in the project. She hadn’t talked to him about it yet, but she knew he’d do it, for her.

“Predictable.” Pansy Parkinson said, looking over her shoulder.

Hermione wondered if Harry’s involvement might be the reason the raven-haired girl bought a calendar herself. She had seen Pansy covertly looking at Harry more than once, although she hadn’t made a move.

“Grant will do it. Put him on the list.” No one was surprised that Mandy had volunteered her husband, Grant Page. He was, as they all knew, rather easy on the eyes.

“Roger Davies.” Someone threw out.

“Fred and George.” Angelina said confidently.

“Well, we only have twelve slots. Wouldn’t it be a bit redundant to use the twins?”

“Oh, not individually,” Angelina smiled coyly, “together. They can be in the same photo.”

Hermione looked at the gleam in her friend’s eye and wondered if she might have just learned a bit too much about the relationship between Angelina and the two red-heads.

Someone called out. “How about Andre Egwu? Doesn’t he still play in the rec league?” A couple heads bobbed up and down.

Hermione paused. “Who?”

Ginny shook her head, unsurprised by Hermione’s lack of quidditch knowledge. “He mostly played Keeper for Ravenclaw, after a turn at Seeker. He’s older than us — played opposite Charlie.”

Hermione shrugged and wrote down his name. It couldn’t hurt.

“Do you think Oliver Wood might do it?”

Now there was a question. He currently was a reserve keeper for Puddlemere United. Hermione suspected they might not want one of their players, even one who didn’t get much time on the field, appearing in a different calendar; particularly one where he would be partially undressed, but it was for charity and she would make sure it would be tasteful. She had no interest in a project that might bring scandal to St. Mungo’s. She wrote his name on the list. It might be an awkward conversation, but she could ask.

The names were coming quicker now. Zacharias Smith. Cormac McLaggen.

“Wait!” Pansy called over the din. “There’s a problem with this list.”

Everyone turned to look at her. She took Hermione’s notebook in her hand and scanned the list.

“You’ve got Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, but no Slytherins. You can’t leave out a whole house! We had a team, too, and it was a fair bit better than all of yours most years.”

“No one’s throwing out names based on house.” Someone defended.

It was true, they had grown past the house distinctions after graduation. Their weekly group had members of all the houses, but Pansy was also right — there were currently no Slytherins on the list.

“Well, who do you suggest?” Hermione asked.

“Draco, of course.”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“What? He’s bloody fit and he’s a Seeker, Granger. Surely that should count for something in your book.”

Hermione made an exaggerated show of ignoring Pansy’s last comment as she took back her notebook and wrote down Malfoy’s name. While she may inwardly agree that the blond was fit, she also didn’t think he’d ever consent to doing something like this.

“Any others?”

“Zabini.” Ginny said with a devilish grin.

By the end of the evening, her list had over thirty names on it — from all houses and positions. It looked like a Who’s Who of male alums who had played Quidditch. The list spanned a number of classes with ages ranging mostly from mid-20s to early-30s. Given not everyone would be available or willing, Hermione was satisfied that she would still be able to find twelve wizards to photograph — or thirteen, if you counted Angie’s idea for the twins.

o0o

Surprisingly, Harry had jumped at the chance when she’d asked him. “When can we do it?”

“Whenever you want.”

Hermione had procured the necessary equipment, borrowing a wizarding camera and getting instruction on how to use it from Parvati Patil, who was now working at Witch Weekly.

“It sounds like a rather worthwhile project. Of course, I’d love to do a feature on it, before it’s released. That may help drum up interest in it.” She dropped her voice. “And, well, if some of the early photos find their way to me, let’s just say, I’m happy to give you my honest opinion.”

That did sound like a win - win, mostly. She told her old roommate that she’d consider it, as she thanked her for the equipment and Apparated to Grimmauld Place, anxious to try it out and see if she could bring this idea to life, well, one-twelfth of it.

Harry had shrugged. “Now? No time like the present?”

She looked at his scruffy disheveled appearance.

“Don’t you at least want to shave, Harry? Clean up a little bit?”

Harry looked at her like she had grown an extra head.

“It’s for a calendar, right?”

She nodded.

“For horny women, right?”

“Well, not-“

“You said shirtless. Was I wrong about that?”

This conversation had gone differently in her head, but then again, Harry had honed his intuitive skills since becoming an Auror.

“No, that’s the plan.”

Harry smirked and it looked not completely out of place on his face. “Fine, then. I’m keeping the stubble. In fact…”

He waved his wand and Accioed something from upstairs.

“…I think I might be able to use this to turn over a bit of a new leaf; show them a little more devil-may-care Harry. That’ll sell, don’t you think.”

Hermione sighed; Harry's face would sell calendars regardless of what image he chose to portray. After all these years, so many still saw him as “The Boy Who Lived.” Of course, his clean-cut image as an Ministry Auror did little to dissuade that.

A pack of muggle cigarettes came flying into his hand, and he stood to head outside. He grabbed his broom from the broom cupboard and then pulled off his shirt, tossing it on the ground, before lighting a cigarette and taking a drag.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Why can’t I?”

“No one is going to believe it’s actually you with a cigarette in your hand.”

“My point, exactly. There’s plenty that the public doesn’t know about Harry Potter.”

“Like how he becomes a closet smoker after he’s had too much to drink?”

“Never you mind that, Hermione. Just take the picture.”

Hermione acquiesced, setting up the camera and testing out the light before finding a spot in the back garden that would work. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen Harry without his shirt, before. She had plenty of times. She certainly didn’t feel _that_ way about him; but standing there in the sunshine with his broom slung over his shoulders, she saw how some people could feel _that_ way about Harry.

And she saw that sometimes he needed to not be the savior of the wizarding world, he needed to just be. 


	2. Mr. February - Grant Page

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! Still completely un-betaed. Come play with us over on Tumblr where you can see all of Nadia's fantastic art and me generally fumbling around.
> 
> Nadia and Anne

It was a gorgeous day — the kind where Hermione wanted to spend as much time as she could outside, regardless of the fact that she had worked rather late the night before.

Saturdays were for pick up Quidditch, and while Hermione herself had no interest in getting on a broom, between the weather and the fact that so many of her friends would be there, it made sense to go. Plus, she had sent a number of letters to prospects about participation in the calendar. It couldn’t hurt for her to spend a little time watching so she could answer any questions about the project.

Typically, she would join the group after they finished, once they had moved on to drinks over which there were endless retellings of who had done what, but today was different. She packed a few things, grabbed her camera and headed to the park. Upon arriving, Hermione stood looking at the pitch. She easily spotted Ginny’s red hair streaming behind her. It looked like she, Cho and Angelina were flying in formation, passing the Quaffle between them. The three witches made a great team, heading straight for the other side’s keeper.

As they reached the goal, Ginny tossed the Quaffle in the air and spun. It looked like she was preparing to pass it to Cho, but instead Ginny used the tail of her broom to knock the Quaffle through the center goal. Hermione could hear the cheers from Ginny’s teammates from where she stood, as well as a groan from someone on the ground behind her. She turned to see who was and saw Mandy waving her over to a spot in the shade; Hermione walked over to join her.

“Oh, rotten luck, that.”

Mandy rolled her eyes; her husband, Grant, was the keeper Ginny had just scored on.

“Please, Grant plays for fun, but Ginny is darn near a professional. Besides, it’s good for his ego to miss a few every now and then.” Mandy grinned, patting the blanket next to her. “It makes him easier to live with.”

Hermione sat, pulled the camera out of her bag, and set it aside. You could never be too ready. She wanted to try taking photos of Quidditch players in motion, and today was the perfect opportunity to test out her technique. She also took out her notepad. A few of today’s players were on her list. Perhaps she would get answers to her inquiries in person, given there were a fair number who hadn’t yet responded. It had only been a few days since she had sent the letters, but she was hoping to at least get the list of subjects nailed down. She kept running through scenarios in her head, trying to keep things balanced. It would be easy enough to end up with a calendar full of Gryffindors, after all, but that wouldn’t sell nearly as well, and she wanted the project to be a success… which meant equal representation.

Pansy sat nearby with a fashion magazine in hand, paying absolutely no attention to the game. She was surprised to see Pansy, as she thought she tended to complain about having to do anything before noon, but given the Slytherins often moved in a pack, she figured that either Blaise or Draco were playing, maybe both.

She scanned the skies once more, noticing a few of the other players in the air and a few others on the ground closer to the side of the pitch waiting. That was the thing about pick up Quidditch — there were often more people wanting to play than there were spots on the team, but everyone was generally a good sport about it all, playing for weekly bragging rights and buying rounds of drinks, rather than house points that had served to divide them far more than a group of children should have been.

“Hey, how does this thing work?”

Hermione turned back to find Mandy turning the camera around in her hands.

“Oh, here, let me show you. It’s pretty similar if you’ve used a Muggle camera.”

Mandy nodded; her father was a Muggle.

“But you need to frame it here,” Hermione pointed to a dial on the side, “and the incantation is _Captūra_.”

“Hmm… I see.” Mandy raised the camera to her eye and fiddled with the dial, trying it out. “I’ve never really seen a Magical camera up close. It makes sense that the mechanism would be similar.”

“Is that for your project, Granger?”

Hermione looked up to see Pansy also eyeing the camera curiously.

“It is. Parvati lent it to me.”

“So have you got any takers yet?”

“Actually, yes. I took Harry’s photo last weekend.”

Hermione didn’t miss the look in the black-haired girl’s eyes, but any further conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the other two members of today’s Slytherin trio.

“Hey Pans - pass my water, would you?”

Pansy rolled her eyes and held out a water bottle towards Blaise, repeating the gesture for Draco who stood beside him. The blond had turned back around to scan the skies as he rested, probably looking for the Snitch even from the sidelines. It was a hard habit for Seekers to break, after all.

Blaise acknowledged each of them with a nod after taking a large swig from his bottle. “Mandy. Granger.”

Hermione chuckled. Out of everyone, she was the one person who still was just as often likely to be called by her last name than her first. They had all known each other long enough to not stand on formality. Instead, it was more of a habit or even an endearment at this point.

“Your reply owl must have got lost on its way to my house, Blaise,” she chided.

“My sincerest apologies. My mother would have my head if she knew I was behind on my correspondence.”

“Ah, so you did receive my letter.”

“I did.”

“Well, now that I’m here, you can deliver your acceptance in person.”

She picked up her notebook, pen in hand, poised to write. Hermione knew there was little chance Blaise would say no. The man beside him, though, was another story.

“Of course I’m saying yes, Granger. It’s for the children after all.”

Hermione grinned and made a note beside his name.

Pansy piped up. “That and he has no compunction about showing the British witches exactly what’s on offer.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow. The number of Blaise’s conquests were well known, and yes, she was banking on his involvement, if not his own self-interest. She could see Blaise passing the calendars out as Christmas gifts to his many paramours.

Blaise elbowed Draco who reluctantly turned his head away from the sky.

“What about you? You going to do it?”

Draco gave a quick shake of his head. “That’s not really my thing.”

“Come on, it’s for charity. You can strut your stuff for a good cause.”

Draco narrowed his eyes.

“Malfoys don’t strut.”

He was quite emphatic and seemed to poke his chest out in emphasis.

Hermione bit back a laugh, but Blaise guffawed heartily. Pansy remained quiet, but Hermione could see one corner of her mouth turned up, as she kept her head in her magazine.

“Malfoys don’t strut?” Blaise repeated, trying to regain his composure, “Have you seen yourself?”

Hermione had to turn her gaze elsewhere as she struggled to keep a straight face. She hoped Blaise wouldn’t push any further; an affronted Draco was one who would be less likely to agree to have his picture taken. She knew saving face was important to him, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have her own methods to try and achieve the result she wanted.

“So, that’s a no, then.” She turned back to her list, picking up her pen as if to cross his name off, but he stopped her before she could start writing.

“No, I can’t say that it is. How can I say no, when I don’t really know what I’m saying no to?”

She looked up to find that ever-present smirk on his face. It was a look she knew well, one that should be far too smug and self-confident, but looked perfectly at home on his face.

Draco could be impossible and infuriating, but that hadn’t stopped him from appearing in some of her late night fantasies from time to time. As an added insult, he looked delicious in his Quidditch kit. However, Hermione had no interest in him finding out she thought that was the case.

He had held her gaze for a moment, before taking another drink of water.

Hermione shook her head to clear it. That was the problem. Draco was good looking and he knew it. But if he thought she was going to grovel so he would participate, he had another thing coming. There were any number of Quidditch players to photograph, although it wouldn’t do to ask Marcus Flint or Greg Goyle, given they wanted to _sell_ calendars, after all.

While she wasn’t completely comfortable with objectifying their subjects, Harry had seemed to take it in stride, and she suspected others would, too. It was all in fun and all for charity, after all. And as former Slytherin Quidditch players went, Blaise and Draco would be the most sought after since both had a regular spot on Witch Weekly’s list of eligible bachelors.

She sighed, glancing down at her page once again. “Well, I’m sure you’ll let me know, and if in the meantime, Blaise, if you can help me find another Slytherin I’d appreciate it. If Malfoy says no, we may be one short.”

Blaise raised an eyebrow.

“Of course, you could always check with Warrington or maybe Bole,” he pondered. “Either of them may be willing.”

Hermione wasn’t looking up so she missed the flash in Draco’s eyes at Blaise’s words, but both Pansy and Mandy watched the entire exchange with interest.

“You could check with them, if you want to settle,” Draco said rather gruffly. “Or, just resend your owl with the specifics. I promise to give your request full consideration. After all, as Blaise said it is for charity.”

At that, he abruptly turned and stalked back towards the field, and Hermione was left wondering if she had overplayed her hand.

Blaise shrugged his shoulders at the three women and turned to follow his friend.

Mandy chuckled. “What was that?”

Pansy, however, had a devious grin on her face. She set her magazine aside.

“Oh, he’ll do it.”

“What makes you say that?” Hermione turned to look at the black-haired girl, curious as to how their perceptions of the interaction could be so different. “He seemed rather ambivalent. And besides, why would he ask me to resend the information? I’m sure he got my owl the first time; the letter wasn’t returned.”

Pansy paused for a moment, as if she was considering how much information she wanted to share. “Something tells me he may play hard to get, but there’s no way Draco lets this opportunity slip through his fingers. Slot him into your rotation, Granger. It’s just a matter of pinning him down to take the photo.”

Hermione wasn’t so sure, but she would wait before trying to fill the slot.

Eventually, she stood and walked over to the field so she could play with the camera, practicing focusing on different players as they flew over the field. The Chasers were the hardest to catch — they seemed to move so fast. In contrast, the Beaters were often in motion, but moved much more slowly. Perhaps that was part of their strategy, so they could aim the Bludgers more precisely. Meanwhile, the Seekers tended to hover so high above it all that she couldn’t get a clear shot, not without the benefit of being up in stands or on a broom herself, which was not going to happen. She wasn’t trying to become the Sports photographer for the _Prophet_ , she only wanted to be able to take pictures of her subjects in different settings. Once or twice she caught a flash of pale blond hair through the eye piece, but quickly changed her view, and after she had taken a few test shots, she went to sit back down with Mandy.

As the game ended, Grant wandered over to find Mandy. The two had been sweethearts at Hogwarts and married soon after. They were mushily, adoringly, and sickeningly in love. If nothing else, it was either a cautionary tale or a reminder that there was someone out there for you, you just had to figure out who they were. Hermione hadn’t found her Mr. Right yet, and her work kept her far too busy, but it warmed her heart nonetheless to see love flourish around her.

Grant bent down to kiss his wife on the top of her head.

“Hey, love.”

“Good game. Eww! You stink.”

Mandy lobbed a towel at her husband, as he stepped back with a grin. He easily caught the towel and stripped off his shirt, tossing it to her in return. She whipped out her wand to avoid catching it, carefully levitating it to the ground and casting several quick charms before she would touch it.

“That’s odd. You don’t usually complain when I’m all sweaty.”

Mandy rolled her eyes.

“Ladies,” he remarked dryly, “see what I have to put up with?”

Hermione and Pansy were having an incredibly hard time not noticing; Grant was incredibly fit. Instead of the lithe build of a seeker, keepers tended to carry more muscle mass. Strength and agility were important in the role as well as speed, but only over the short distances between the hoops.

Hermione heard Pansy mumble under her breath, “Uh, that doesn’t really look like that much of a hardship.”

“What?” Mandy asked.

“Oh, nothing.” Pansy replied, leisurely turning the page on her magazine as she pretended to not notice Grant’s bare chest on display in front of them.

Meanwhile, Grant had finished toweling off.

Hermione continued looking off in the distance wondering where Harry and Ron might be, anything to keep from staring at her friend’s husband. She spotted them talking in a group on the far side of the field.

The sound of a click brought her attention back to Mandy; she was holding the camera in her hands.

“Yes, I think that will do. Here you go.”

Mandy handed Hermione the camera with a grin. Hermione looked at her curiously.

“Wait, does Grant-“

“Of course he does. He was on the list.”

Hermione looked at Grant who was thankfully now pulling a clean shirt over his head.

“Do I what?”

“Consent to be in the calendar.”

Grant looked affronted. “Of course, it’s for charity, after all.

Mandy gave Hermione a smug look and used her wand to direct all of her belongings into her oversized bag.

“See, I told you. Now you have one less Ravenclaw to worry about. And, as you saw, he’s definitely a _keeper_.”

Grant groaned at the bad pun. He held out his hand to help his wife stand.

“See you on Monday,” Mandy called as the two headed off.

Hermione sighed. She hadn’t been planning to take any photos for the calendar today, but if Grant’s picture was any good, that would be one less that she had to schedule. She started to collect her things as well, seeing Harry and Ron finally heading her way.

“Is that what you’re doing?” Pansy asked idly.

Hermione looked at her, unsure what she meant.

“What?”

“Taking photos of half-naked men?”

She bit back a smile. Pansy wanted something, although Hermione didn’t know what. While they were long past their mutual animosity, she harboured no illusions that this was idle chit-chat. Pansy didn’t do that.

“Well, I wouldn’t call them half-naked; they’re shirtless, perhaps. And besides, you were there the night we talked about this. In fact, if I remember correctly, you were the one who insisted on Draco’s name being on the list.”

“That was about equal representation. When I spoke up, you had no Slytherins on your list.”

“Sure,” Hermione conceded, “but what did you think I was talking about when I described the calendar?”

“Honestly, I wasn’t sure. I mean, talking about it is one thing; seeing it-” she gestured to where the half-naked Grant had just been standing, “-is another.”

Hermione shrugged and put the camera in her bag so she would be ready to head to out once Harry and Ron cleaned up and collected their gear.

“And clearly, you need an assistant to help you with this project,” Pansy continued. “It’s a good thing I’m available.”


	3. Mr. March - Blaise Zabini

“Chop, chop, Granger. We don’t have all day.”

The voice from her front room drew Hermione’s attention from the kitchen where she stood, clad in her pyjamas, nursing a much needed cup of coffee before getting ready for the day. She had an appointment to take Blaise’s photo shortly, but she didn’t need to be anywhere for another hour. She stepped into her front room to find Pansy brushing herself off after coming through the Floo.

“Pansy? What are you…” Her voice trailed off as she took in the woman’s attire. She appeared to be dressed for safari — albeit a fashionable one. It was a far cry from the woman’s impeccably tailored robes, given the rather casual bent. Always stylish, but not quite on point, Hermione thought.

“Are you going hunting?” Hermione wondered out loud.

“Well, in a manner of speaking, we are, aren’t we?” the woman responded, unphased by Hermione’s comment.

A number of photographs from her first session with Harry had drawn Pany’s attention from where they were strewn about the coffee table. Hermione had been looking through them last night, trying to pick the right one to use. If she kept making progress on this project, even slow progress, it was something.

“I didn’t think you were going to this,” Hermione pressed, wondering what she had done to warrant her early morning house guest.

True, Pansy had been present when Blaise had invited her to a spot where some of the boys would be flying today; it was a perfect opportunity for her to catch him and tick off another box. _It’ll just be some guys on brooms, but it’ll be a good chance to get a photo. And maybe you can make progress on your other project, too_ , he had explained.

Hermione had jumped at the shot to get another photo done, although she did not know what Blaise had meant by her other project. She had quite enough on her plate already.

“Of course. Typically, I avoid this sort of thing like dragon pox: sports, sunshine, smelly boys. _Not_ my idea of a good time, but you need someone to go with you. I can’t let you head into the snake pit alone.”

Hermione nodded. “But it’s only 9:30…”

“Shocking, I know, for me to be up this early. What can I say, Granger? I’m taking my role as your assistant quite seriously. Now, why don’t you go get ready-” Pansy shooed her back towards the kitchen. “I’ll be fine out here.”

She shook her head, but went about her business. Unlike Pansy’s Prêt-à-Savannah look, Hermione threw on a pair of jeans and a jumper, plenty appropriate for weekend wear. The truth was, she was thankful to have someone else with her today. She wasn’t sure who all would be there. While much had changed, some of the other Slytherins could still be a little snippy from time to time, particularly the ones who had been in class ahead of her, who hadn’t taken the same opportunities for reconciliation that she and her classmates had.

Pansy called out from the other room as Hermione wrestled with her hair, finally settling on a messy bun, when it refused to cooperate.

“Speaking of photo shoots, are these Potter’s proofs here? Have you chosen which one you’ll use?”

“I have; it’s the one on the counter. The ones on the table are extras.”

Hermione chuckled to herself. Pansy’s tone may have been one of casual disinterest, but Hermione knew better. Neither Pansy nor Harry seemed capable of making the first move, instead they orbited around each other in an unending dance.

Hermione could see the two of them together, though. She had grown to like Pansy, who while still plenty fussy, was both refreshingly direct and surprisingly astute. She could appreciate both of those characteristics. If either of them ever got off the fence, they’d be a good match.

Unwilling to play into the deep house divisions there had been between them at Hogwarts, Hermione knew that Slytherins weren’t bad. There were other adjectives she could apply: prideful, snippy, exacting, but those were traits one could find in anyone. In any event, she appreciated that Blaise had made time to get his shoot done so quickly. It was a marked contrast to a certain other Slytherin who, while she could admit they were not so bad looking, still acted like a giant prat.

Case in point, she was still waiting for a response from Malfoy, and she knew darn well he had received her second owl, given she had appended a return receipt charm to her note.

Pansy had said nothing in response, but Hermione guessed at what she might have been thinking. As she walked back into her front room, Hermione feigned ignorance when she saw that one of the photos she had left on her table had disappeared. It was one where the sun had been shining behind Harry, as he sported a bit of a goofy grin. She couldn’t remember what they had been laughing about, but she remembered how relaxed he had been at that point. Because of the lighting, the picture wouldn’t have worked for the calendar, but it had been one of her favourites. Maybe this might be the prompt Pansy needed; at least one could hope.

Slytherins. They pretended to be so cold and sneaky, but sometimes all they needed was a little push in the right direction.

o0o

“Oi! Granger! I’ve got a bone to pick with you.”

Hermione took a deep breath as Marcus Flint marched over to the two women with several other Slytherins trailing behind.

“Pansy.” Marcus nodded, clearly not so upset that he’d completely forgot his manners.

“What’s this project? You need Slytherin models? And yet you somehow only end up asking players from your year, when there are plenty of other options. It smacks of favouritism, that’s what.”

“Erm…. there’s Shafiq?” Hermione commented, pointing out that there was a third Slytherin. Not that she knew him personally, but he did exist.

She was wholly uncomfortable with where this was going. While she was plenty brave, and she knew she had nothing to worry about from Flint and his friends, she also had no interest in rehashing the details with everyone. This was a simple charity project, but as more people became aware, it seemed to be taking on a life of its own.

She knew that there were some who might be upset with her selections. To be honest, Flint wasn’t wrong. But she had reasons for selecting the two Slytherins in her class, not all of which were personal. Both Blaise and Draco were quite a draw unto themselves. From a publicity standpoint, it made perfect sense to feature both of them in the calendar. After all, she could admit that the calendar was far more of a popularity contest than a who’s who of Hogwarts Quidditch. However, this was the first time that her choices had been directly questioned and she had an inkling it may not be the last.

Pansy, as short as she was, was completely unaffected by the boys’ bravado. She stepped directly in front of Hermione, shielding her from whatever Marcus was gearing up to say in response.

“To be honest, we’re going for more of a pretty boy aesthetic, Marcus, which means _you_ don’t fit the bill.”

Hermione bit back a cringe; Pansy’s statement wouldn’t help their cause one bit.

“Are you hearing this, lads? They’re going for a ‘pretty boy aesthetic.’”

Marcus rolled his eyes, unsatisfied with Pansy’s reasoning. The group around him laughed.

“Do you know how many times we’ve won the House Cup? Clearly if it was Quidditch prowess you were after, there’d be more than three Slytherins featured.”

At that moment, Blaise walked up behind them.

“Too bad, Flint. Gotta go with what’s gonna sell.”

“Please, you didn’t even get on the house team until Sixth Year.”

Undeterred, Blaise waved his hand over his torso in a flourish. “Well, if you looked like this, maybe you would have been asked. Now, if you’d excuse me, I’ve got a date with a pretty girl and a camera. Calendars to sell and all that; you know, _for the children_.”

That seemed to shut everyone up. Marcus gave an exasperated groan and wandered off with the rest following behind. Blaise grinned madly and began to loosen his Quidditch robes.

“Where do you want me?”

“Over he-” Hermione motioned before Pansy jumped in.

“Wait a minute, are you oiled?”

Pansy walked up and raked a finger across Blaise’s chest, rubbing her fingers together as he grinned.

“See, now this is what I like,” Pansy purred. “Working with a professional. They know how to present themselves. I bet no one else has shown up like this. Now, stand here and show off that gorgeous smile.”

Hermione gave Pansy an odd look at the woman’s unexpected take charge attitude. If this was what it meant to have an assistant, she wasn’t sure she needed one. As she looked through the camera, however, she could see what Pansy had mentioned, the glow that Blaise’s dark skin gave off in the sunlight. It was as if he was luminescent. She wondered how that might come across in the picture.

She gulped. Blaise was fit. Really fit. Between that and the tattoo around his navel that trailed into his trousers, Hermione realised why Ginny had been so insistent on him being included. It was definitely a master stroke, regardless of when he had made it onto the house team.

It didn’t take long for Hermione to capture several photos she was sure would work. Blaise was quite a ham in front of the camera, and Pansy’s directorial suggestions seemed to work well. Hermione knew they were just friends, but Blaise seemed to respond to Pansy in a way that Hermione figured would be captured in the resulting pictures. He tossed the Quaffle in the air for a while before trading it for his broom.

“Zabini, what’s the deal? Are we flying today or modelling?”

Hermione turned to find Draco standing behind her and her breath caught. She had been so focused on taking pictures; she hadn’t heard him walk up. The other Slytherins had already mounted their brooms and were flying around the field in lazy formations, no longer paying Hermione and Pansy any attention.

Draco was in his Quidditch gear again today, and Hermione couldn’t help noticing the contrast between the two best friends. Where Blaise was pure muscle, Malfoy was long and lean, with a Seeker’s build. Not that he didn’t have his share of muscles, though.

Okay, maybe she had a bit of a penchant for Quidditch players, Seekers in particular, she realised. It was perfectly normal for her to appreciate a well-sculpted male form.

Hermione realised she was lost in her thoughts and shook her head, hoping no one had caught on.

“Oh, hey, Draco, I was wondering…”

Her voice trailed away, as Draco had already turned to walk off. He hadn’t even acknowledged her.

That was different.

Hermione frowned, wondering what she might have done to warrant that treatment. She knew he had heard her speak, and to not even say hello, let alone acknowledge that they had unfinished business between them?

Maybe they weren’t on the familiar footing that Hermione thought.

She had only wanted to mention the notes she had sent, given she hadn’t heard back from him yet. Weren’t Slytherins supposed to be paragons of manners and all that?

She heard Pansy snicker and looked up to see an amused look on the woman’s face.

“Don’t mind the attitude, Granger. I told you, he’ll do it.”

“If you twist his arm, maybe.” Hermione’s frown deepened. She wasn’t used to feeling like this. Typically her competence, whether at the hospital or elsewhere, was enough to garner some modicum of respect. Besides, for as long as she and Malfoy had known each other, she thought they were beyond the petty slights, but clearly not, if that interaction was anything to go by.

It all left her feeling decidedly out of sorts, regardless of what Malfoy looked like in a Quidditch kit. Never mind him. She had options. Maybe she would take Flint or one of the other Slytherins up on their offer, diversify things, so to speak.

Hermione was having trouble putting the camera into her bag and when it snagged on the lip, she almost lost her grip, which would have caused it to tumble to who knows where at the bottom of her bag.

“Don’t you know what flirting looks like?” Pansy cut into her darkening mood.

Hermione stilled, taken aback that she would even suggest that. It was ludicrous.

“That wasn’t flirting. Malfoy didn’t even acknowledge my presence.”

“Haven’t you ever played hard to get?” Pansy’s look was all too smug.

“If he was any more aloof, you would think we had never met. Honestly, Pans, I don’t see why you think he would even be interested in flirting with me. That’s not really his style.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Hermione recognised she had forgotten to say what was most important, that she wasn’t interested anyway, so whatever game he might be playing, she wasn’t phased by it; that her interest in him was solely about the project.

True to her Slytherin self, Pansy missed none of that, but she also didn’t push Hermione on it.

“Do you trust me?” Pansy asked coyly.

She nodded. Of course she did. They’d all come a long way together at this point.

“Then don’t fret about it. I’m sure he’s interested.”

In what, however, Pansy didn’t specify, so once again, Hermione was left wondering whether she was referring to the calendar or if Malfoy had some deeper interest that lay elsewhere that dictated his maddening behaviour.

That evening, as Hermione sat on the couch with a book and a glass of wine, she heard a knocking on the window. It was late for an owl, but if it had been important, her friends would have used the Floo.

As she opened the window, a Great Grey Owl flew inside and looked at her impatiently, as if it had better things to do than to wait around for her to relieve it of its quarry.

“Aren’t you a pretty bird?” She attempted to placate the animal as she untied the letter. It was rare to see one of these. She went to fish out an owl treat, which it promptly refused before flying off.

Its behaviour made sense once she turned over the envelope and saw a stylised M pressed into the seal.

She opened the envelope and pulled out the note inside.

> _Granger -_
> 
> _I’ve had an opportunity to review the details of your request, and can agree to assist with your project. I have some work-related travel coming up, however, and it may be a few weeks before we can schedule something. I hope that won’t disrupt your schedule._
> 
> _I’ll be in touch._
> 
> _DM_


End file.
